


A Sign Of Affection

by FallOutStucky



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Awkwardness, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Kings Rising, Protective Nikandros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallOutStucky/pseuds/FallOutStucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen suffers from several strange inconveniences.<br/>But let´s be honest, it´s not always simple to adjust to another culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sign Of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this tumblr post:
> 
> http://star-spangled-phan-with-a-plan.tumblr.com/post/140514598308/barnes-n-barton-imagine-your-otp

It was a hot summer day when it first happened.

King Damianos of Akielos was sitting on one of the palace's balconies. He had decided to take the breakfast outside, to make the most out of the day and enjoy the summer at least in the morning and evening hours, before it got to hot to be outside.

Nikandros and Jord were sitting by his side. Damen had invited them to come out and eat with him when he met them in the hallway half an hour ago  
The remains of their breakfast were still on the table. As well as an unused plate, which was waiting for the King of Vere to use it.

The king, who Damen last had seen sound asleep under soft white sheets, where he had let him to rest and made his way to where he was enjoying easy conversation with his friends right now.

It was unnatural for Laurent to stay asleep and, more important, away for that long. On the other hand though, Damen had stopped to question Laurent's behavior and intentions a long time ago.

So they waited for him while casually discussing strategies on how to convince the Akielon villagers at the northern borders to get along with their Veretian neighbors. Since they would fall under one reign from now on.

Damen had chosen one of the smaller balconies, half opened towards the gardens, but also turned towards the front so it provided a perfect view over the ocean.

While Jord and Nikandros were discussing the matter in their usually, only half serious and more playful banter, Damen was staring down on the water.

The light, sparkling blue reminded him of Laurent's eyes and how they had looked last night when he…

He drifted further off, so far, that it was too late when he finally heard the thin sound of vanishing air which indicated an object, flying at high speed.

To late to hear Nikandros' “Damen, down!”

To late to prevent the small, round and most of all really, really hard object from hitting the back of his head. Throwing him forwards and knocking the thin gold crown out of his dark locks.

He didn't even have time to sit up again, before Jord was kneeling by his side, picking up the crown and Nikandros shouted for the guards.

“What the hell was that?”, Damen asked rubbing his head and looking around. Jord's eyes as well were searching the floor. He furrowed his eyebrows, then he reached under the table and presented, to Damen…an apple.

It was not as big as it had felt when hitting Damen's head, round, bright red and a bit bruised where it had met skull and floor.

Damen took it in his hand.

“I'm sorry, Cap… Exalted, but why would someone throw an apple at you?”, Jord asked, confusuion speaking clearly out of his voice.

“Damianos or Damen is fine, Jord really. And I have absolutely no idea, but I think all the guards aren't necessary.”

He waved them away and prevented more from forming a special posse to search for the thrower.

“Should I ask for Paschal?”, Nikandros offered but Damen shook his head slightly.

“There's no need, I had much worse.”

He leaned back in the chair and accepted the bag of ice, a servant brought him, nevertheless.

Things had settled down a bit by the time a blond figure emerged from the gardens.

“What's all the fuss about?”, Laurent asked in confusion. He sat down next to Damen, draped his legs over the other man's lap and reached up to where Damen was holding the pack with ice in place.

He lifted it up a bit and softly pushed his long fingers through the slightly wet hair, lovingly caressing the hurt spot. Damen leaned into the touch.

“How did that happen?”

Nikandros cleared his throat. “Someone threw an apple at him.”

“Oh?” Laurent bit back a laugh. “Why's that?”  
He grabbed a strawberry pastry and took a bite.

“If I only knew!”, Damen said grumpy.

Jord and Nikandros just shrugged, not sure what reaction was expected from them.

“Well, only a child's play, I suppose?”, Laurent answered himself.

“I suppose.”

*☆*☆*

The second time was about two weeks later. Damen had already forgotten about the first time. The bruise had healed and someone to blame was nowhere to be found. Not that there had been much attempt in finding one.

So when Damen was traineing to wield his sword left handed with Pallas on said evening, after a long and boring dinner with the Kiroyi, the least thing he did expect was another apple hitting him right on his upper right arm.

It didn't hurt so much this time, since the muscles of his arm were softer than the bones of his head and the apple hadn't been thrown with that much force. It'd still leave a bruise though.

“Exalted?”, Pallas asked confused, picking the apple up. Much like Jord the week before. There was no one around but the young man. Damen had sent the guards to rest due to the late hour.

Damen looked around, searching for the thrower. With no success, the training arena was indeed, completely empty.

“I have absolutely no idea”, Damen admitted. The first time it could've been an accident, 'a child's play' as Laurent had put it.

Otherwise, he didn't know what to do. It was harmless, a bit strange and of course annoying. Although it wouldn't happen again, at least so Damen hoped.

He was glad Pallas was the only one around and Damen would most likely keep it that way.  
Nikandros would only want him to find the one to blame for this phase, Jord would shake his head, mutter something about Damen deserving this kind of inconvenience and Laurent would probably laugh at him, trying to hide the concern about Damen's well being.

Speaking of which…

They just had picked up their swords again as Laurent entered the arena. The young King went for a walk after the dinner to clear his mind after a long day of polite conversation and lots of food. So he had apparently decided to look by on his way back.

Smiling absently as he watched the exchange between the two Akielons, Laurent sat down on one of the wooden benches which surrounded the arena. His eyes never leaving Damen, who was more than well aware of that fact.

After a while it had gotten to dark to go on and Damen ended their training. Pallas made his goodbye and trailed off. Possibly to find Lazar somewhere with the other soldiers.

Damen went in the opposite direction, picking up Laurent from the wooden bench. The blond ducked away from him, giggling like a child and warming Damen's heart with it.

“Uagh. No, stay away from me. You're sweaty and smelly.”

Instead, he took Damen´s hand and linked their finger together. Like this they walked towards the palace.

“Does he know you only give like a quarter of what you are capable of?”, Laurent asks smirking.

“I believe so, but he's too honored to be able to train with the king to say anything.”

“And why do you do it, then?”

“I don't know. Distraction? Stress relief?”

“Well I would say I know something better for that.”

*☆*☆*

The third time had, sadly enough a bigger audience.

A few weeks ago Damen had recognized that, even though he had all his belongings back, he'd need a second wardrobe to be more appropriate dressed for the times he'd spent in Vere.

And who better to assign with that than, much to Laurent's amusement, Charls, the renowned Veretian cloth merchant?

So on a rainy, though still warm afternoon Damen had ordered the merchant to come visit him in the palace.

He was sitting in his dressing room waiting for the arrival of the man. The windows were opened to let in the cool rainy air.  
He was chewing on some candied almonds when the doors opened.

Damen jumped up.

“Charls!”

But it wasn't. It was Makedon.

“Charls?”, he asked.

“Oh I'm sorry. I thought you might be someone else.”

“There's something I need to tell you. But...who is Charls?”

“I am Charls!”, a deep, booming, happy voice came from behind Makedon.

“Charls”, Damen said again in a form of greeting.

“You're Charls”, Makedon simply stated, feeling kind of neglected.

Damen turned towards him. “Not this again”, he muttered. “How about we talk later. I'm a bit busy at the moment.”

The other man slowly backed away slowly when Charls started throwing clothing and fabrics at Damen. Literally.

When the apple hit his back, Damen tumbled on the small chair he was standing on. Almost falling down, if it hadn't been for the young soldier who was standing besides to hold some fabrics for Charls who had taken the freedom to just take him away from their guarding duty to become temporary cloth merchant's assistants.

He held up his hands to steady Damen and prevented him like this from falling. Surprisingly being able to do so since Damen wasn't exactly a lightweight.

“Thank you.”

“Of course”, the young man said with a slight bow of his head.

“What's your name?”, he asked.

“Hendrik.”

“You have really strong arms, Hendrik”, Damen stated, because there was nothing wrong with giving an honest compliment.

“Thank you, I used to carry the banner. Those are pretty heavy”, he laughed while Damen rubbed his back.

Charls cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Exalted.”

Damen turned towards him.

“Why on earth was an apple just thrown at you through the open window?”

“Oh you're hurt. I'll go search for a pack of ice”, Hendrik said and made an exit before Damen had the chance to hold him back.

A few minutes later the doors opened again. But it was not Hendrik who returned. It was Laurent.

Charls greeted him with a cheerful smile.  
“Your highness!”, he exclaimed not bothering that he'd technically used the wrong form of address.

Damen was the last to care though. No with Laurent in front of him, looking oh so pretty with his blond hair slightly disheveled and glittering with small raindrops from the weather outside.

He in return looked at Damen in the Veretian clothing like he wanted to jump him right here, in front of Charls. The moment went by as Laurent looked away and focused his attention to Charls.

After that, they engaged in comfortable conversation. The thrown apple long forgotten under a rack of cloth.

*☆*☆*

After the fourth time Damen was sitting on a wooden stool in the kitchen pressing a pack of ice against his hurting forehead.

The apple had hit him while he overlooked the preparations in the main hall for the celebration in honor of the Patrian delegation they were expecting in three days. It was the first time he would meet Torveld and of course Erasmus as, well… himself.  
They didn't know who was expecting them, didn't know that the slave Damen, was the same man as the king Damianos. So Damen wanted everything to be perfect.

This time the thrower had used his full force and Damen was sure the bruise would stay for quite a bit. Once again he was thankful for his dark skin tone. This way it hopefully wouldn't be visible when the Patrans' arrival.

The kitchen staff avoided strained to look Damen's way but couldn't really hide the confusion on their faces.

After a while in which a girl had brought him a cup of water and Nikandros had made his way down to Damen to lecture him about how this really couldn't be a coincidence anymore.

“Please, Damianos, as your consultant and your friend, please, please let me sent some men to search for this… this person”, he begged.

But Damen shook his head. In his opinion there was no point in searching for someone who was playing a dumb prank on him. It wouldn't have mattered even a tiny bit if Damen wasn't the king.

“It's harmless, Nikandros, there's really no need...”

He's interrupted by a servant, a young boy with dark shoulder long hair, approaching them with fast steps. He sank on his knees in front of them.

“Exalted, excuse my interruption. I'm sent to ask for you to come to the conference hall.”

“I'm afraid I don't know that, I was only approached by one of the guards.”

Damen exchanged as quick glance with Nikandros and got up to walk upstairs. Curious in who may desire to talk to him.

Surprisingly it was Makedon who was sitting in one of the chairs. Looking troubled and a bit ashamed as well. When he saw Damen and Nikandros, who of course had tagged along, enter, he got up rubbing his sweaty palms together.

“Exalted. I have something to admit…”

Damen frowned. What could Makedon probably have to admit? “Well, out with it.”

“It's about… the…ahem… the apple incidents.”

“What?”, Nikandros blurted out before Damen was even able to give some kind of reaction. “Do you know who's responsible for this phase?”

“Yes.”

“And you only now think of telling us?”

“I'm really sorry.”

“Then who is?”, Damen demanded to know, now too in anticipation of the answer.

“I am. Well, kind of.”

“So you threw the apples?”, Damen asked not really believing in any of it.

Makedon lifted his hands as if to defend himself, shaking his head.

“No. No.”

“Then who did?”

“Laurent.”

“What?”, the two man shouted in unison.

Damen blinked and stared out of the big glass windows. The reality slowly dribbling back to him as his brain tried to process the new information.

“That is not possible”, was the solution it came up with. He needed to sit down for a minute. The two others joined him at the table in an act of respect.

“Let me explain.”

“I beg for it”, Nikandros said.

“It started out as a bet. We were talking about one of the man's upcoming wedding and how we're glad about the fact that some of the old traditions had been abolished a long time ago. For example the tradition of throwing apples at the person you're interested in, to show them your love. After a few more drinks we thought it would be fun to convince Laurent that it was still customary.”

“You did…but how?”

Damen shook his head in disappointment. Even though he couldn't help but be amazed, impressed and slightly terrified by Makedon's ability

“You…alright. You did actually manage to trick Laurent. Laurent, the King of Vere. My Laurent, the same Laurent who has a plan and disguise for every situation, no matter how absurd it may be. The probably smartest and cleverest man there is.”

Makedon couldn't help but smirk. “Ever heard the saying love makes fools out of us all? It wasn't really that hard.”

“Huh.”

“Exalted, I have to apologize again.”

“Yes, but not to me”, Damen said, looking directly at Makedon. Of course Laurent would believe in such a thing, even if it sounded absurd, but so did most of the Veretian traditions to Damen.

Makedon shot him a troubled look.  
“You mean…?”

“Yeah. And good luck with that.”

*☆*☆*

“So it is not a normal tradition in Akielos to throw apples at your loved ones”, Laurent simply said late that evening when they were sitting in the gardens together.

Damen had taken place at the little dining table he used to attend with his father as a kid to read a book without someone disturbing him. It was near the kitchens, so food, drinks and servants weren't that far away. Although it still maintained the image of privacy with the olive and apricot trees all around them.

Much more so than the usual outside dining area on great balcony were half the city could see one if they'd bother looking up from what they're doing.

They would sit there for hours, listening to the near fountains with their calming lapping water. Damen telling his father how his day had been and hos father teaching him little things he'd need to know as soon as he'd be king.

Like how to tell apart whether someone was lying or telling the truth or, on one memorable occasion, how to prepare the peach-pie Theomedes had used to charm Damen's mother in their time.

It was the smell of that pie that had Damen turn his head as a familiar blond figure appeared behind him through the small path between the trees.

Laurent put down the plate in front of Damen. A barely visible blush spread upon his cheeks.

“Nikandros told me”, he explained. “I am… I ordered the cook to prepare some.”

“Thank you”, Damen said smiling lovingly and gesturing for Laurent to sit with him.

After he said down, Laurent cleared his throat and turned to Damen again.  
From the way he held himself, Damen could tell that it wasn't easy for him to say the following.

“I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“It his fine, really”, Damen assured him, resting a hand softly on top of Laurent's. “I even feel a bit flattered.”

“Well.”

After that they sat in comfortable silence. Damen eating the pie which was just as good as he remembered and Laurent picking up Damen's discarded book, looking through it without any real interest.

Just killing time until he decided to talk again.

“So it is not a normal tradition in Akielos to throw apples at your loved ones.”

“It certainly is not.” Damen shook his head and laid the book down to turn his full attention on Laurent.

“I have to say and this may be the first and - hopefully - the last time anyone will hear this from me. And don't get me wrong if it were anyone else but you I wouldn't even say it, but, … I have to admit I feel really … stupid right now.”

“Oh, don't be to hard with yourself, love. Besides, it's not that far from the truth. It used to be a tradition, yes, if you wanted to show your affection towards someone. Though the last time someone has used it was about two-hundred years ago I think.”

“And here I am trying to regain my biased views on your country and then your people prove to be the same senseless barbarians I'd thought them to be”, Laurent says, shaking his head, his lips curled into a small amused smile.

Damen opened his mouth to defend his people but is stopped by Laurent raising a hand.

“But I have to admit that my kingdom may have some … rituals which may seem equally stupid to you as well.”

Damen could only nod to that. Laurent really has come a long way with his thoughts on Akielos and it's culture, something Damen was thankful for it.

They just sat there for a few seconds, smiling, enjoying the warm evening air and the last rays of sunrise. Just being able to simply sit there, lost in each others presence, laughing about a silly prank with nothing to worry about.

It was so simple but so, so precious, because Damen would've never dared to even wish for them to have this. And yet…

“You know you could have just told me your feelings”, Damen suggested. He propped himself on one arm to lean closer to Laurent.

Laurent, who shook his head, soft pink lips slowly turning into a smile.

“Was it ever this easy with the two of us?”

“It could be…”

“Like how?”

“Like this”, Damen simply said lifting one hand up to Laurent's face, turning it so the blond was facing him.

He waited in anticipation for Laurent to finish the kiss on his own conditions. On his own choice.

And when he did, it was once again the sweetest touch Damen had ever experienced.

Damen broke the kiss shortly and a cocky smirks spreads upon his lips.

“Well if it helps I could throw an apple at you as well. You know, so we're even.”

“You will certainly do no such thing, Damianos. Don't you even dare.”

“An orange than perhaps? Less hard…”

“Damen.”

“An apricot?”

“Damianos!”

“Okay, I'm sorry.”

They kissed again but only for a few seconds before Damen disconnected their lips yet again.

“Grapes then maybe?”

**Author's Note:**

> So that was my first Lamen fic, I hope you liked it. I´m sorry Laurent wasn´t in this so much, but it´s really hard to do justice to a character this amazing and complex and I may have been a bit of a coward.
> 
> Also there may be a second part about Torveld´s visit.


End file.
